The words over at Three Word Wednesday are fear, ignore and weightless.ConjoinedBetta traced the distance between raindrops on the cool glass with her index finger, idle and child-like, her view of the world on soft-focus.An echo of her own soft voice mentioned casually from the next room that she thought the rain could have held off for at least another few hours, since it really was going to make things a lot more difficult and there were a few art pieces she had no desire to expose to the elements.A single tear rolled off Betta's cheek and made an oblong spatter on the glass. With her thumb, she wiped it way, indistinguishable from the soft rain that now pelted the glass.Things had grown tenuous between them in such short order. She had feared it, but acquiesced to Gretta's wishes. They’d been together since their tumultuous birth and Gretta was the stronger one, more striking, always.Gretta's hair was wavy and dark, having the color and luster of a good bar of chocolate. Her skin was flawless, with an olive hue. While her teeth were crooked – their parents had no cash or desire to get two mouths fixed at the orthodontist – they were white and gleamed.Betta, on the other hand, had hair that would have looked stylish on a rat – bushy, gray-black and if she didn’t spend considerable time and money, it took on an oily tone before noon.Her skin was the same olive color, but throughout puberty, it had erupted, tiny, angry red volcanoes that left scars.Her teeth? A copious coffee drinker, their hue was closer to banana skins going bad.She tried to ignore Gretta's restlessness as they entered their teens and early 20s, often feeling what Gretta truly wanted in her heart, which fed Betta's as well.Gretta passed through the doorway, asking Betta if she had been listening.“I’m sorry, what?”“I’m only taking a few things. The rest of the furniture, it’s yours. You picked it out, you should have it.”She nodded and returned her gaze to the window.“Don’t you love me anymore?” Betta said, her breath creating a ring or fog on the windowpane.Gretta's shoulders slumped. She put a hand to her side, elbow cocked at 90 degrees and rubbed.“Of course I love you,” she said. “Always have, always will.”Gretta twisted her head, heard the satisfying crunch of tendons stretching and waited.“Then why?”Gretta rubbed her hands across her face, kneaded the blood that pulsed hot and angry, diffusing it, redirecting.“We’ve talked about this, don’t you see this really is for the best?”Betta took tiny sips of air, the tears flowed freely.“We’re connected,” she said, lifting the tank-top toward her breasts, exposing an angry scar that still bore the lingering blues and yellows of heavy bruising.“We were conjoined, but that was another lifetime ago,” Gretta said.“I never really wanted this,” Betta said, spittle coating her chapped lips.Gretta spent a lifetime hooked to her. Sharing blood, organs. Hearing the murmur of Betta's weaker heartbeat in her ears, feeling her timid tremblings rattle in Gretta's bones. Surgeons had severed the physical connections, the bone and sinew, but Gretta knew the emotions ran deep.Deeper for Betta, perhaps, as she fed on Gretta's strength, humor, charm.Gretta had no desire to hurt her twin.But that time had come. The moment where they needed to stand separately.Alone.“Look, with you, I felt anchored to a life I never wanted,” Gretta said, resting warm hands on her sister's trembling shoulders. “Apart from you, I feel truly weightless.”

This went through a major edit, since my fine friends and comrade-in-arms, Quin (Miss Continuity) made the correct call that conjoined twins cannot be male/female. I tried to suspend logic. Hope this still works.

A poignant reality Thom...how many do really suffer like this? The wish to be separated is quite heartbreaking esp if it comes in later life when most of their growing up years were spent of being together?

I had something heartwarming to say until I got to your comment that implied this was written at first with male/female conjoined twins...now I'm howling with laughter at all the messed up biology that conjures.

An interesting view of the subject. Sad, but also a bit bitter, given how different the girls apparently were. Interesting that the procedure seemed to give them the strength to say things they'd been holding in. Nice read.

I've never thought about what it would be like, the assumption being that if conjoined twins were separated, they would both be happy. Like Peg's shadow story the word it leaves me with is bereft. Interesting that I identify with Betta...wonder what that says about me?

excellent storyline thommyg... sometimes these procedures are not successful but still they move forward... reading this perspective i guess that is why.. the weightlessness of not being connected... enjoyed the point of view of both the weak and strong.... and funny how the furniture is always part of the breakup...

Thom Gabrukiewicz is both a communicator and a writer of flash fiction. Most of what he writes is kind of dark, with occasional forays into the light.
He’s a winner of some awards and has covered two Winter Olympics. He’s also written a guidebook about hiking with dogs.
He’s fiercely loyal and has a malevolent side that seems to visit less and less. He’s both a hopeless romantic and a realist.
He's currently working on community wellness issues in Wyoming.